


gotta get a break from that same old same old

by bisexualfpjones



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Riverparents, a brief appearance by james hetfield, alice and fp are purely hostile flicers do not interact, parentdale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27236845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualfpjones/pseuds/bisexualfpjones
Summary: FP asks Hal to a Metallica concert. What could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Alice Cooper & FP Jones II, Alice Cooper/Hal Cooper, Hal Cooper & FP Jones II
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	gotta get a break from that same old same old

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bewareoftrips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewareoftrips/gifts).



> *uses poison lyrics on a fic about metallica* (title from Nothin' But A Good Time)
> 
> HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY KIM! 
> 
> disclaimer: im not a drug expert. that is all.

“Coop!” FP yells as he rushes through the student lounge, coming to a standstill in front of where Hal and Alice are snuggled up together on the couch. He’s panting, like he’s been running wild through the halls, locks of hair falling over his eyes, face all flushed with pink. “What’re you doing Friday night?”

“Hanging out with me,” Alice says, all monotone with the slightest hint of annoyance, just as Hal opens his mouth. They hadn’t actually had any plans, but nothing good was going to come from anything FP was about to ask, Alice knew. Best to nip it in the bud right then and there.

“Wow, Hal. I didn’t know you were a ventriloquist,” FP deadpanned, looking down at Alice as she glared back at him, eyes narrowed. “You’ll have to teach me that one.” 

Alice perks up, like she’s ready for a fight. Hal catches the minute way FP’s body tenses, getting ready. Hal cuts in before anything can start. “What’s up, FP?” Hal wraps his arm around Alice’s shoulders; gentle, but firm. She looks FP up and down one time before slowly slinking back against Hal’s side.

“How’s about coming with me to a concert this weekend?” 

Hal instantly feels nervous. Everyone’s always busting his chops for his taste in music being too _square_ (their words). And he’s been around FP enough times to know his own taste is… aggressive. Scary, even, though Hal would never admit to that out loud. He gets made fun of enough. “Oh, I don’t know, FP-”

“Why isn’t Fred going with you?” Alice chimes in.

“Don’t speak that traitor’s name in front of me.” FP points a dramatic finger at Alice, but keeps his eyes on her boyfriend. 

There’s a story there. Probably. Alice doesn’t care. It’s most likely Hermione related, anyway. They go through this same song and dance every other week and she’d forgone any minimal interest she had over it ages ago. Rolling her eyes, she says “Why don’t you just ask Gladys, then?”

“Ask Gladys what?” Gladys plops down sideways on an armchair, snapping a bite off a Twizzler as she joins the conversation.

“FP’s got tickets to some concert. Real important stuff,” Alice sarcastically explains.

“I told you I was trying to win tickets 2 weeks ago,” FP says, turning around to face Gladys. “You said you were gonna be busy.”

Gladys remembers. FP had come into the Wyrm all excited over some radio contest, blabbering a mile a minute. She was coming off a long shift, couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to his insane ramblings, so she’d made up some excuse to get him to leave her alone. “Oh, yeah.” She grins, proud of her own joke. Takes another bite of the liquorice.

FP shakes his head, annoyed, before turning back to Hal. “So, do you wanna come? It’s gonna be great. We got front row seats and-”

Hal throws a hand up to slow FP down. “You haven’t even told me what the concert is, FP.”

FP falters for a second, suddenly not so excited. He looks around the room, squinting up at the ceiling. “Oh. It’s, um.” Rubs the back of his neck. “Metallica?”

“ _Metallica?_ ” The other three exclaim in unison, all in varying tones. Alice is looking at FP like he’s crazy. Hal just looks afraid. And Gladys…

“You didn’t tell me it was a Metallica concert, you jackass!” She’s sitting up now, surging forward to wack FP on the arm with a fresh Twizzler. Enough force behind it that it stings.

“Ow!” FP’s rubbing his arm as he looks back at her. “And yes, I did! You just don’t listen to me!”

Gladys shrugs because, well, he’s got her there. “Besides the point. C’mon, FP, I could make so much money there selling my shit!”

“ _No,_ ” FP says all stern. “You just wanna deal. You don’t even care about the music.”

Gladys rolls her eyes. “Oh, and you think Stepford husband over there does?”

“Hey!” Alice complains. “Don’t be a bitch.”

“Really, FP, you should take Gladys…” Hal tries to say, but his voice comes out too quiet against everyone’s yelling.

Honestly, at this point FP probably should just ask Gladys and be done with it. It’d be the easy thing to do. Save everyone a further headache. But FP’s kind of spiteful, so that rules that out.

“Okay, Hal.” FP turns back to face the other boy, planting his feet and squaring his shoulders like he means business. “You know what? I think this would be good for you. Break you out of your shell. Show you new horizons.”

_Show you new horizons?_ Alice mouths over to Gladys who just shakes her head like _who the fuck ever knows what FP is talking about._

“What if I like my shell…” Hal argues, but there’s no heat to it. Can’t even convince himself that that’s true. 

“Do you like the leash Alice has you on, too?”

Alice kicks her foot out to hit FP’s shin, feels no remorse watching him grab his leg and curse out a _motherfucker!_ as he hobbles around for a few seconds.

“Okay, you know what?” FP says once he’s finally able to compose himself, hands on his hips like he’s gearing for a lecture. “You’re gonna make me pull out the big guns, Hal. And I don’t want to do that to you.”

“Oh boy,” Alice sighs.

“Here we go,” Gladys groans.

Hal looks between the two girls confused. “I don’t know-” He’s cut off by a sudden wailing that must be coming from FP, except it’s kind of hard to tell considering FP’s faceplanted into Hal’s lap, which, feels kind of awkward… Has Hal jumping back on the couch like he has any space left between where he’s at and the back cushion. FP’s arms wrapped tight around his waist aren’t helping matters much either.

“Please, Hal, you have to come! This is gonna be the greatest concert of my life and I spent so long trying to win tickets and they’re _front. row._ Hal when am I ever gonna get this chance again?” FP cries, everything coming out in one breath.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Alice mutters under her breath.

“How do you have no other friends to ask to this thing?” quips Gladys. “I thought you were supposed to be Mr. Popularity.”

“Mind your business,” FP says, stopping his crying long enough to whip his head around to glare at Gladys and give Hal a chance to break free of his hold. 

Gladys’ eyes go a little wide with an amused sort of shock, but she’s enjoying the show too much to really do anything else, like tear FP a new one for using that tone on her. 

FP turns back to Hal, all wide-eyed and innocent, easily falling back into a toned down version of his previous hysterics. “Come on, Hal, whattaya say? Please?” He holds his hands together, a sign of begging. Juts his bottom lip out and hopes his eyes are doing that puppy thing Fred’s always using on people that seems to get him whatever he wants.

“I don’t know, FP…” Hal says, but he sounds like he’s wavering. He looks over to Alice, like he needs her final verdict. 

“Come on, Hal. _Pleeeaaaseee?_ ” FP drawls out, laying the whining on thick to really sell his desperation.

Alice and Hal seemed to be locked in some sort of silent conversation, but it’s easy enough for FP to read. Alice is basically threatening to lob off one of Hal’s limbs if he says yes, while Hal is trying to plead a case for FP. At least, FP hopes that’s what he’s doing. Otherwise he’s really embarrassing himself right now. 

“Okay, FP,” Hal says, slowly turning back to face the boy at his feet. “I’ll go with you.”

“Hal!” Alice yells, but it’s all but drowned out by FP yipping and hollering and tackling Hal back on the couch. 

Alice quickly moves to avoid getting crushed under the boys, a noticeable sound of disgust escaping her lips as she throws her hands up in frustration. Gladys is just watching the whole thing, laughing to herself.

FP plants a big, wet kiss on Hal’s cheek, an audible _SMACK_ ringing out as he pushes off. “You’re gonna have the time of your life, Hal. Promise!”

“Um, aren’t you two bozos forgetting something?” Alice has one more card to play to try and shut this whole thing down. The two boys look over to her and she stares back with a smug expression. “Mrs. Cooper is never gonna let her son go to a metal show. She’ll have Hal exorcised for even asking.”

Hal’s cheeks go a little pink with embarrassment at the truth of the statement. It’s no secret the Coopers keep Hal sheltered, but Alice doesn’t need to go around advertising it. Besides, the simple fact that they’re even dating is proof enough that Hal’s not a _total_ square, despite what most of the student body, present company included, believes. “She doesn’t need to know, Al,” Hal says with more confidence than he feels about this whole thing.

Alice stares back at him, disbelieving. “It’s like I don’t even know you right now.”

“Oh, come on, Ali, lighten up.” FP plops down next to Hal, slings his arm around Hal’s shoulders and brings his other hand up to cup Hal’s jaw. “I’ll take good care of the big guy. Promise.”

Alice scoffs, not believing or _trusting_ for a single second that that’s true.

“It’s just one night, honey,” Hal tries to placate. He puts his own arm around his girlfriend, pulling her towards him so he can place a reassuring kiss to her temple. “What could go wrong?”

As Alice looks over to FP, observing the way he’s trying to sell himself as some sort of innocent, she can’t help but think _A lot. A lot could go wrong._

\--

The next night, Hal’s driving down to the trailer park to pick FP up for the show. The boys had decided it was best that FP not make an appearance at the Cooper residence. Would’ve caused too much suspicion, and Hal already had a lie ready on deck. He had told his parents he’d be hanging out with Hiram. Not that they liked Hiram that much either, but at least he was higher on the totem pole than FP. Not to mention that it was something he did frequently, anyway, so they were less likely to question it. It was always his go-to trick for the nights he had to sneak out with Alice before he told his parents about the two of them.

There was also the added bonus that FP’s place was parent-free - having been living on his own the past few months after being thrown out of his dad’s. Hal had heard about that from Alice. Apparently it had been big talk around that part of town, but FP never brought it up, so neither did Hal. Despite tonight’s outing, he and FP weren’t anything one would call close, and it seemed like too touchy a subject for a casual acquaintance to get into. 

As Hal pulls up his parents’ station wagon to FP’s trailer, he starts to wonder if maybe he’d gotten the nights confused, or if maybe FP had changed his mind and decided to invite Fred after all, because the two are standing on the steps of what barely constitutes as a porch of the trailer, talking rather animatedly. But as Hal steps out of the car and hears yelling, he realizes maybe that’s not the case at all.

“I told you I invited Hal!”

“I thought that was a joke! Why would you invite Hal?”

“Beats ditching my friends for some indecisive slut!”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Fred shoves FP.

FP shoves Fred back. “I was talking ‘bout _you_!”

“Um… hi, guys,” Hal interrupts just before the other two can break out into a full fight, which looked like where they were headed.

FP’s demeanor changes instantly, smile spreading wide across his face as he jumps over the railing of the not-porch steps to get down to Hal. “Coop! Buddy! Pal!” He slings an arm around Hal’s shoulders, pulling him in tight to his side. “So good to see you, _friend_.”

It’s obvious what he’s doing, trying to make Fred jealous. Hal feels a little uncomfortable with the attention. 

“Whatever, FP,” Fred says with a shake of his head. “Have fun at your stupid concert.” 

Hal, still in FP’s grip, watches Fred leave. He feels bad, like somehow he’s the one who caused the rift between the two. He didn’t know this concert was such a big deal… 

When Hal turns to look at FP, he sees the other boy watching Fred’s retreating form. He looks sad for the briefest moment before he catches on to Hal’s staring, puts that grin right back on his face and pats Hal on the shoulder before letting him go. Only for the smile to fall again.

“Christ, Coop, is that a sweater vest?”

Hal looks down at his outfit for the night; a dark green sweater vest over a light blue polo paired with cream chinos. FP’s dressed in a pair of jeans with a whole the size of a plate in one of the knees and a grey flannel unbuttoned over a grey Metallica shirt that Hal thinks may have started its life black. Suddenly he’s rethinking his outfit. 

“Whatever. It’s fine,” FP says. “Let’s just go.” They start to head for the car, but stop when they see Alice and Gladys walking over. FP throws his head back and sighs, speaking to no one. “What now?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, foreskin,” Alice says. FP cringes at the nickname. “Just wanted to see my boyfriend off before his big night.” She santers over to Hal, reaching up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss.

FP fake gags. Alice flips him off, never breaking the kiss.

“You feeling left out, Jones?” Gladys asks as she stands beside FP, watching Alice kiss Hal like she’s sending him off to war.

“Why? You offering?” FP turns to Gladys, eyebrow raised and tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.

Gladys just smirks at him. “In your dreams,” she says, voice dipping low and sultry before patting him on the cheek and walking away. 

Alice comes to replace her a few seconds later. FP sees Gladys approach Hal in a manner far too friendly than she usually would, but before he has time to question it Alice is grabbing his ear and walking him a few steps away.

“Ow, Alice! What the hell?”

“If anything happens to Hal tonight, I _promise_ you they’ll never find your body.”

FP has to lean forward from how hard Alice is gripping his ear, like that’ll somehow relieve some of the pain. Not that he’d ever admit to her she’s that strong, but something tells him he doesn’t have to. “What are you? Psychotic?!”

Alice squeezes his ear harder, and FP almost drops to his knees. “I mean it, FP. You better watch after him tonight. If he comes back with so much as a papercut I will end you. Got it?” When FP doesn’t respond, she squeezes his ear again. “I said, got it?”

“Yeah, alright, I got it! Fuck!”

“Good.” Alice smiles and lets FP go, turning around on her merry way back to her boyfriend like she wasn’t just about to rip FP’s ear off.

“Crazy bitch,” FP mutters to himself, rubbing his ear to gain some of the feeling back.

Alice says another goodbye to Hal before she and Gladys finally leave. 

As FP makes his way back to Hal, all ready to leave, he notices the other boy holding a thing of tin foil in his hand. When he gets closer, he realizes they’re brownies. “Oh, sweet!” He picks up a square to eat.

“Gladys brought them,” Hal says through a mouthful of the treat. “Isn’t that ni-” Before Hal can finish his sentence, or the brownie in his hand, FP’s slapping them to the ground, along with his own. “What the hell, FP?”

“Please tell me that was your first bite,” FP says, with a rather manic look in his eyes.

“Not… exactly…” Hal hesitates.

“Hal! How many did you eat?”

“I don’t know? Two and a half? Three?” Hal’s so confused. “What’s wrong?”

FP rubs his hands over his face and groans loud. Well, that explains why Gladys was so eager to get Hal alone. Unfuckingbelievable. “She drugged you, Hal.”

Hal spits out whatever brownie remnants were left in his mouth, which FP would’ve found funny if he wasn’t the one about to be stuck dealing with a stoned as shit Hal Cooper at a fucking Metallica concert.

“She _what_?”

“Relax, Coop. It’s probably just pot.”

“ _Just pot?_ FP, I don’t do drugs!” 

Hal’s getting a little upset. Okay, he’s getting _a lot_ upset. Looks like he’s about to damn near pass out by the looks of it.

FP takes a few steps closer to him, settling his hands on either side of Hal’s face to get him to look at him. “Listen to me, Hal. You’re gonna be okay. We’re just gonna… ride this out. Take a few deep breaths.” FP starts making a show of inhaling and exhaling, getting Hal to breathe along with him until he settles down. “There we go. It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be feeling real good in about an hour.” Hopefully, anyway. Unless Hal turns into one of those overly paranoid stoned people. Then FP’s screwed.

Hal doesn’t look that convinced, but he stops hyperventilating, so FP decides that’s good enough. 

“Gimme the keys,” FP commands, holding his hand out.

Hal looks down at FP’s hand, then back up to his face, skeptically. “I’m not supposed to let anyone else drive-”

“Oh my God, Coop. Do you really wanna be behind the wheel right now?”

Hal mulls it over for a minute. FP’s got a point. He’s in no state to be driving right now. Not that anything’s happened yet. But it _could_. FP said it’d be an hour, but Hal’s never been high before. How does he know it won’t be sooner? Maybe he’s high right now and doesn’t even know it. What does being high even feel like?

“Hal!” FP makes a _gimme_ motion with his hand, and Hal deposits his keys into it. 

Best to just let FP take the reigns now.

\--

When they pull up to the stadium, Hal’s surprised to see that it looks like the parking lot is holding its own party. Everyone’s out and about, tailgating out of their trunks. A distinct smell of beer and smoke fills Hal’s nostrils as soon as he steps out of his car.

FP can’t get away from the station wagon fast enough, having muttered _”I can’t believe I’m showing up to Metallica in a fucking station wagon”_ on the drive over. 

Which, _rude_. FP was the one who asked Hal in the first place. But Hal doesn’t bring it up.

He follows as FP weaves his way in and out of parked cars and stragglers, watches FP go up to someone’s trunk and talk his way into getting a beer. He comes back with the can raised to his lips, beer spilling down his chin and neck.

“Should you be taking alcohol from strangers?” Hal asks.

FP finishes the can off, tossing it aside with a belch before wiping his arm across his mouth and smirking. “When it’s free, yeah.”

They get into the stadium without incident. The edibles haven’t hit Hal yet, and it feels like he’s a ticking time bomb. FP’s pissed that he’s been forced into the role of sober buddy tonight because God knows if anything happens to Hal, Alice _will_ have FP’s head.

FP uses his fake ID to nab a beer at the concession - he’s pacing himself. Call it a practice in self restraint - while Hal gets himself an order of nachos. FP chips in for a large tub of popcorn, telling Hal “You’ll thank me later” when he realizes FP didn’t buy it for himself.

They find their seats, and suddenly all the excitement comes rushing back to FP once he’s faced with just how close to the stage they are. He could probably touch James Hetfield from here, it’s fucking insane. He’s getting all jittery just thinking about it.

Hal doesn’t share his enthusiasm. 

“Aren’t these guys like, really loud?” asks Hal, shoving a cheese covered tortilla chip into his mouth. He eyes the speakers in front of them warily. 

“Yeah.” FP grins, stealing a chip. “It’s fucking great.”

There’s no opening act. A video plays instead on the giant screens, some behind the scenes shit of the band out and about, at other venues, whatever. It’s pretty cool, FP thinks. His eyes are glued to the screen, not wanting to miss a single second of what he’s watching. It’s not until the screen fades to black and live music starts blaring through the stadium, indicating the bands about to come out, that FP checks in on Hal.

“You doin’ okay there, buddy?” He turns his head and is greeted by the sight of Hal Cooper staring open-mouthed at the stage, fingers dipping into his nacho cheese sauce. Apparently the edibles have kicked in. 

This could really go one of two ways, FP thinks. Either really good or really bad. Maybe Hal will just stay still as a stone all night and FP won’t have to worry about him. He could deal with that…

The band comes out on stage and the crowd roars around them, filling the stadium with noise. FP’s up on his feet, screaming and cheering along with everyone as the band kicks in to _Enter Sandman_. 

Hal’s sitting still as a statue in his seat until the song really kicks in, and his body jolts along with it. The rest of his nachos go scattering to the floor and he mourns them for a moment before he’s overwhelmed by the sights and sounds surrounding him. 

There’s so much happening. The crowd around him is going wild, bodies thrashing all around him, people jumping and screaming along with the music. The band on stage looks so big. Are they supposed to be this tall? And close? Someone knocks into Hal, and he almost falls sideways, manages to catch himself last minute, and he’s looking around for FP but can’t see him. 

“FP? FP!” Hal yells.

“Jesus Christ, Coop, I’m right here,” FP says from his spot right next to Hal. 

Hal feels so relieved in an instant. Wraps his arms around FP’s body and holds him close. “Oh thank goodness! I thought I lost you.”

“Yeah, okay, Coop.” FP pats Hal on the back a couple of times before removing himself from his grip. His eyes dart back and forth between the stage and Hal. Not even through the first song and his night’s already headed south. “Why don’t you just sit down and watch the show until intermission, huh?” FP doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s turning back to face the stage, taking only half a step away from where Hal’s planted.

“No!” And Hal’s lunging forward, hand fisting into the sleeve of FP’s flannel. “What if I lose you again?”

FP rolls his eyes, looks up to the ceiling asking whatever gods are out there why he ever thought bringing Hal Cooper to this thing was a good idea. “Oh my God, fine! Just. Stay behind me.”

Hal gives an eager nod, hand still latched on to FP’s sleeve as he presses up close to him. 

FP can’t help but look around nervously, checking to see if anyone’s paying any attention to this particular public display of Hal’s stoned affection. If he gets thrown out for fighting tonight he’s gonna be so pissed. But, fortunately, everyone seems to be paying close attention to the band and nothing else.

It’s halfway through the third song that FP realizes he hasn’t checked on Hal. Was too lost in the onstage antics to notice when the weight of Hal pressed against him suddenly disappeared. Panic sets in for a moment when he looks behind him to where he last knew Hal to be and doesn’t see him. 

But it doesn’t take long to find the big guy. To FP’s utter bewilderment, he’s seemed to have made friends with a group of biker looking guys, definitely at least 10 years older than he and FP. Hal’s standing amongst them, devil horns thrown up and headbanging away, singing along to a song he absolutely does not know the words to, but doesn’t seem to care. It’s… definitely a sight. FP wishes he had a camera. No one was ever going to believe this. 

It’s got FP feeling a little looser now. Maybe he won’t have to babysit Hal as much as he thought. 

He makes his way over to Hal’s new friends, and Hal lights up when he notices. 

“FP!” Hal swings his arms around the other boy in a quick embrace. “This is great isn’t it?” he’s screaming. “Rock and roll! Woo!” He opens his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out flat like some corny imitation of a rocker. He’s still Hal Cooper, after all. No matter how many metalheads he makes friends with.

“You having a good time, then?” FP laughs, resting a hand on Hal’s shoulder.

“Heck yeah I am!”

And that’s all the answer FP needs before falling in line beside Hal, the two boys turning their attention to the stage and jumping along to the music.

\--

Intermission comes before they know it. FP says he’s gotta take a piss. Gives Hal strict instructions to sit in his seat and not move. Hal’s in the middle of shoveling the popcorn FP bought him earlier into his mouth when he nods his understanding.

The line to the bathroom’s kinda long, but FP’s gone maybe ten minutes tops. Which is why he’s surprised to spot Hal on his way out of the bathroom. He’s gearing up to yell at him for not staying put until he notices two girls chatting Hal up; one in a body-hugging purple dress, showing off legs for days, the other in skin-tight jeans and a cropped band shirt that’s been all cut up to display various bits and pieces, oversized leather jacket to top it off. Suddenly being angry at Hal’s the furthest thing from FP’s mind.

Hal’s leant up against a wall, doesn’t really remember getting there, but it doesn’t worry him as much as it maybe should. What he _does_ know is that he’s crying to two really nice strangers.

“I just miss my girlfriend Alice, you know? She’s really pretty. I think you guys would like her,” he says through some sniffling. “But I think she might be mad at me for coming tonight, and I don’t like it when she’s mad at me.”

“Oh, you poor baby,” the girl in the purple dress coos, reaching out to scratch long nails softly through Hal’s hair. 

This is the scene FP crashes, staring a little wide-eyed at Hal being blatantly flirted with. Farbeit for him to ruin Hal’s good time, though. That’s between him and Alice. FP’s got his sights set on Hal’s new girlfriend’s friend anyway. Nothing like a quickie at a concert to make the night memorable.

“Hello, ladies,” he says, saddling up beside Hal and swinging his arm over Hal’s shoulders. “I see you’ve met my friend Harold. How’s about we turn this threesome into a foursome, eh?” 

FP gives the girls a onceover, and the mood instantly shifts. 

The girls look disgusted, leather girl saying “Not a chance in hell,” before they both turn on their heels and head off. 

FP scoffs, trying to mask his hurt pride. “Fine. Didn’t need them interrupting boys’ night anyway.”

Hal, for his part, seems totally unaffected. His face is still tear-stained, but he’s completely stopped crying. “Can I get a hotdog?” 

FP looks down at him, squinting his eyes like he’s trying to figure out what the hell is going on in that head. It’s useless. “Yeah, fine. But gimme your wallet. My generosity’s maxxed out.”

\--

For the most part, the rest of the concert is smooth sailing. Somehow Hal’s energy stayed sky high. FP suspects there was more to Gladys’ brownies than the weed he initially thought, but like hell was he about to let Hal in on that newfound bit of knowledge. The kid was having a good time and hadn’t OD’d. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. If nothing else, it made him more fun to be around. Far more than FP had planned for the night.

Hal could feel the music in his _bones_. Like it was a physical part of him, latching on and holding tight to every nerve. His skin felt alight with it, head to toe feeling _warmwarmwarm_ all over. He had too many layers on, was the problem, though. He needed to be freer. Needed to calm that scorch that was engulfing him. 

“Put your tits away, Hal! Jesus!” FP’s yelling, suddenly on Hal.

Hal can’t see his surroundings, everything covered in black. When did the lights go out?

“We’ve come to the last song of the night,” James Hetflied is saying on stage, strumming the chords for the last song. “We hope you all enjoyed your night. The yuppie in front row certainly seems to be,” he laughs. 

The arena seems to be echoing with that laughter, and when FP looks around at the giant screen at the side of the stage all he sees is himself trying to pull Hal’s stuck shirt down. 

“Oh no.” FP flushes. Of all the times to end up on the fucking jumbotron.

“FP, what’s going on?” Hal asks, sounding more than a little frightened.

“Nothing. Just. Stop wiggling.”

“This last one goes out to you, kid,” James says before going into a cover of Queen’s _Stone Cold Crazy_.

FP finally manages to untangle Hal from his shirt and get it settled back into place. Can’t believe _James fucking Hetfield_ shouted _Hal Cooper_ out of all people. And Hal doesn’t even _appreciate_ it.

Hal looks at FP all innocent, like he has no idea what’s just transpired in the last minute or so. “What?”

FP just looks at him in disbelief, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

\--

The show ends, and the trek back to the car is adrenaline fueled. Riding that post concert high that has FP still scream-singing to every song they just heard. Has Hal smiling like an idiot alongside him because he retained nothing of the lyrical content, but is still having a good time.

They pause before getting into the station wagon because FP needs a smoke, and when he had tried lighting up on the drive over Hal had yelled at him that his parents would be able to smell it and kill him. 

So they sit on the hood, side by side. Hal ends up on his back, staring up at the night sky, letting the cool air wash over him and settle that fire that had built up all night. “I had a good time tonight,” he says up to the stars, to FP.

“Still can’t believe you got singled out by James fucking Hetfield,” FP says on an exhale of cigarette smoke, a slight chuckle to his voice.

“You don’t think anyone from school was here tonight, do you?” The thought of anyone he knew having seen him on the screen tonight is enough to make Hal sober up just a little.

“Guess we’ll find out Monday.”

In the time it takes FP to pull another drag of his cigarette and blow the smoke up towards the sky, Hal finds the courage to ask the question that’s been on his mind since FP invited him. “Why’d you ask me to come with you? I mean, we’re not exactly friends…”

FP nods, flicking some ash onto the ground. It’s a fair question. He and Hal _aren’t_ friends. Friendly, sure, but not _friends_. Have never hung out outside of a group setting and even then they barely speak more than two words to each other.

Maybe it’s the post-concert high, maybe it’s the fact that _Hal’s_ still high. It’s got FP feeling a little honest. “I needed to make Fred jealous. Could’ve invited Hiram, but I’d rather take a bullet to the head. I did ask Tom, though. But he had a date, so.” FP waves his hand in the air flippantly. 

“Why not ask one of the guys from the team? Aren’t they your friends?”

FP laughs, something bitter. “They’re not my friends. They like me because I help score touchdowns. That’s the extent of it.” The guys on the team don’t matter, and Fred knows that. It wouldn’t have meant anything. And while Hal didn’t particularly mean anything to FP, either, he and Fred _had_ been friends for a long time. It’s petty, FP knows, but inviting Hal out tonight was like telling Fred _I can take from you, too._ He feels bad about it now, for Hal.

This news of FP not being close with the guys on the team surprises Hal. He instantly recalls images of aftergame parties, of the guys all celebrating together. Cheering around FP as he does a kegstand. Shots in whoever’s kitchen. The general rowdiness and comradery after a win. Hal feels like he’s getting a peak behind the curtain. That all is not as it seems. 

“That fight you were having with Fred when I drove up,” Hal asks, feeling a little bolder, “it had something to do with why you needed to make him jealous?”

“Yeah,” FP says. Short. Curt. 

“But why-”

FP sucks in a deep breath. “Are you still high, Hal?”

“Um.” Hal’s face pinches, trying to figure out if he still is. “Maybe?” From his position lying back on the hood, Hal can make out the slightest hint of a smirk on FP’s profile, lit up by the streetlights in front of him. It feels like he’s laughing at some joke Hal’s not in on.

“Don’t wanna kill your buzz.” He takes one last pull of his smoke before throwing it down and hopping off the car, causing it to jolt a little with Hal still on it. “You ready to go?”

Hal gets the distinct sense he’s supposed to drop the subject. No more questions. No more answers. Just leave it be. “Yeah,” he responds, sliding off the hood. The earth shifts a little around him, but he’s able to steady himself in a few seconds, maybe more. “I’m good.”

\--

They say their goodbyes in Hal’s driveway. FP doesn’t linger too long lest Prudence Cooper’s nosy nature gets the better of her and she decides to pop out, see why her son’s lingering in the drive.

Hal earnestly thanks him for a good night, FP returning a rare genuine smile and saying “Me, too.”

When FP makes to start his walk back to the South Side, Hal asks if he’s sure he doesn’t want Hal to drive him despite his still inebriated state.

“I’m fine,” FP assures with a wave of his hand. “Make this walk all the time. Just try and get some sleep, party animal.”

Hal makes his way inside, hoping with all hope his parents are already in bed. He hasn’t broken curfew, but he’s still got a slight buzz thrumming through him, and the last thing he wants right now is to face either of his parents.

He shuts the door quietly behind him, making sure to make as little noise as possible with the locks. The stairs are close, thank God. The carpeting helps muffle any sound. His limbs feel a little heavy, but he thinks he can manage. One step, two, three…

His foot catches on the fourth, and try as he might to use the railing to keep himself up, he’s falling backwards, butt hitting the floor with an _oomph_. Hal instantly starts cracking up.

Suddenly the foyer light is coming on, and Hal’s mom is standing above him in her silk robe and curlers in her hair. It makes Hal laugh harder. 

“Harold Cooper, what on _earth_?!” Prudence sternly says, hands on her hips. 

“‘M sorry,” Hal laughs, stumbling his way up to his feet. There’s tears falling from the corner of his eyes.

Prudence stands there, giving her son a onceover. She’s none too pleased, and normally her judgement is enough to strike fear in Hal. Tonight it’s just funny. 

She stares him down, squinting her eyes like she’s trying to assess what exactly is wrong with her son. “Have you been smoking dope?”

And _that_ is just about the funniest thing Hal’s ever heard. He keels over, arms wrapping around his waist as he giggles in a fit. Is still smiling when his mother grabs him by the chin and pulls him towards her to sniff his mouth. There’s nothing to smell, of course, besides some greasy fast food he and FP had stopped for on the way back.

“I didn’t smoke anything, mom,” Hal says, holding up the Boy Scout salute. “Promise.”

Prudence doesn’t look totally convinced. But she’s got no solid proof to the contrary, and it’s late. She’d rather just retire for the evening. “Fine. Just… go wash up and get to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hal leans in to give his mother a kiss on the cheek before _carefully_ heading up to his room.

The night finally catches up to him. Hal never makes it to the bathroom to wash up. Barely manages to get his pants off before he’s falling face first onto his bed, exhausted. The sound of snoring fills the room mere seconds later.

It’s cold in his room the next morning, he vaguely realizes as he’s stirring awake. There’s a draft. His window’s open. He should close it. He didn’t open it? These thoughts slowly start coming to him in fragments as he wakes, flips over to face the window so he can will himself out of bed to close it. His arm hits something. A _person_. He yells, suddenly wide awake. Scooching back the other way on the bed, eyes flying open to land on- “Alice?”

“Yeah, it’s me, ya goof,” Alice whispers from where she’s kneeling beside Hal on his bed.

Hal checks the clock on his dresser. It’s 7 AM. His parents should still be sleeping. Maybe. Hopefully. They stay silent a moment, waiting to see if either of the eldest Coopers come to check in on Hal. They don’t, and Hal lets out a sigh of relief.

“What’re you doing here, Al?” Hal’s words are slurred with sleeping as he rubs at his eyes. 

Alice shrugs, a failed attempt at casual. “Just wanted to see if you made it back alive like the good girlfriend I am.” Which isn’t the entire truth, and Hal knows it. She could’ve waited till a more reasonable hour to check up on him. No, there’s only one reason why Alice Smith would walk all the way to the North Side this early in the morning. She’s escaping something, _someone_. But Hal knows better than to mention it.

“Seems like you had quite the night.” Alice’s eyes dart down to the lower half of Hal’s body, breaking him from his previous train of thought.

Hal’s eyes follow Alice’s trail, bugging out when he remembers all he managed to do last night before passing out was take off his pants. He’s on top of his covers, white briefs exposed. His cheeks go red as he reaches for a pillow to cover himself. Alice giggles beside him. “I was, uh. Tired.”

Alice reaches for his chin then, gentle, turns his head every which way like she’s examining him. “No cuts, no bruises, no hickeys… Looks like I won’t have to kill FP after all. Darn,” she sighs, all dramatic and overly disappointed.

Hal reaches up for Alice’s hand to intertwine their fingers. “It was a good night.” Truth be told, Hal can’t remember much of it, but he feels like he had fun. Doesn’t even think he’d mind doing it again, albeit not any time soon. More like one of those things you experience once every few years. Let your hair down, cut loose.

Alice hums, settling herself more onto the bed. Cuddles up into Hal’s side as he opens his arms to her, the hands holding each other now resting on Hal’s chest. “I’m glad,” she mutters, words slightly muffled by Hal’s sweater vest. 

“I’m kind of worried about FP, though,” Hal admits.

Alice turns her head to look up at him, face scrunched in bewilderment. “Why?”

“He seemed really upset yesterday about his fight with Fred. Just hope those two patch things up.”

Alice can’t help but snort. “Trust me, they’re fine.” She doesn’t mention crossing paths with Fred this morning. Walking passed FP’s trailer on her way to Hal’s, spotting Fred, shirt halfway on as he headed out of it. It’s the open secret of the South Side by now. Hell, most of the North Side has been speculating already for years. Apparently Hal hasn’t caught on, though. And for as much as FP works Alice’s last nerve, there’s certain lines even she wouldn’t cross, so he keeps her mouth shut.

Hal, for his part, doesn’t press. Just holds Alice closer to his side as he lets out a yawn, up far too early for the night he had. “Whattaya say we sleep for a little bit, and then you can sneak out and invite yourself over for breakfast?”

Alice’s eyes go wide with a mischievous gleam. “Harold Cooper, look at you being all sneaky!”

Hal laughs, leaning in for a kiss. “What can I say? You South Side kids are rubbing off on me.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos much appreciated :)


End file.
